Eyes Wide Shut
by GirlOnFire33
Summary: The story of what happens after Piper beats the crap out of Doggett; taken from horse-face's mouth, and later on Alex's perspective. Can they rekindle their relationship, or even a simple friendship, after everything they've put each other through? Whoever guesses the answer to that wins the first slice of Red's Real Chicken. Well, that's what the Squirrel seems to think anyhow...
1. Chapter 1 – A Million Miles Away

1 – A Million Miles Away

Without becoming a morbid zombie I am not left with that many options. After so long in SHU I have come to realise that there is only so much pacing, cleaning, exercising (Yoga Jones will have nothing on me by the time I'm allowed out of here)– hell even downright thinking – you can make yourself do. After that it's a struggle to even get up off the hard as fuck steel frame they call a bed in this torture chamber.

It's a struggle even ascertaining how much time has passed. It can't be years because I still remember how to think coherently like a human being. At least, I think I do. And I'm not talking to voices; I learnt that stupid-ass lesson the hard way the last time I was in here. Last time and now; now and last time. I would go back to last time any day. At least I had the somewhat comforting idea that Larry would be creating a shit storm on the outside because he hadn't seen me on Thanksgiving and the notion that maybe Alex would take me back after I had, albeit in a kind of messed up way, reasserted my loyalty to her – shown her I really do goddamn loved her.

No, it's been two months I'd say at a guess. Well, an educated guess. I've been assuming they allot us a breakfast, lunch and dinner, so I resorted to counting the meals with tally marks etched on the wall with my strangely strong fingernails. It's like prison has toughened them up or something: as it has me, I suppose. According to my chart then, it's been 56 days and I still haven't managed to block out the screaming. Or the crying, or the half-crazy insane shit that people shout at all hours of the day and, what I have to assume must be, night. If I'm honest, it scares me for all the wrong, most selfish reasons imaginable. I'm not worried or scared about them, or of them or for their own sainty (the other prisoners I mean). No, I'm funda-fucking-mentally terrified of how long they must have been rotting away in here to get like that. Because that means I might be 'incarcerated', as my mother says, for just the same amount of time.

And no one would give a crap.

Not even Healy has given me the pleasure of his company this time around. I wonder… in fact I wish, I hope, I even pray to whoever-the-hell is out there, that he's been fired. Maybe Pennsatucky decided that if he had stepped in earlier, I might not have had such a long time to smash her ugly teeth in. Oh, I bet she's so pleased with herself for this: up on her pedestal once again, telling the world how God has been all good and merciful once more by getting her the best new teeth a prison allowance can buy. Idiotically – as Fischer so kindly informed me before I was dragged away– it could actually be a pretty decent set because of Figueroa's recent budget screw-up or something. I don't know though – I wasn't really paying attention to much at that point.

I'd just been dragged off her completely limp form by Bennett who looked nearly as bad as I felt. Pennsatucky's face was all bloodied and practically unrecognisable with the gore. All I could think was: did I really do that? Was that me? My eyes eventually zeroed in on my crimson hands and sounds started to register, it wasn't just the snow and icy wind that assaulted my numb senses, but Bennett bellowing into his microphone for back-up and some sort of animalistic-like cackling sound. After a few minutes of utter confusion I realised the sound was coming from me. After that it was all too rushed. I'm here now and that's all that really matters in the scheme of things.

Tiffany's not dead though, so maybe she does have something to be thankful for… And I definitely do in that respect. Fischer again whispered to me that it quickly became apparent that the majority of her wounds were superficial, other than the teeth obviously. Fischer's not one to keep you waitin gin agony to hear the news of whether you're going to be given lifer for murder - not like all the other cunt Correctional Officers. If not for the fact that it wasn't too serious, I would be in Max. right now; it's a goddamn miracle I'm not in Psyche. It's only thanks to Taystee's account of all the shit Doggett pulled beforehand, coupled with my crying, begging and pleading with Caputo and pretty much all of the COs that has meant I've been stuffed into this tiny slice of heaven within a hellhole.

I'm not proud of myself, not for any of it. I shouldn't have lost control like that. It was just that retarded song and then seeing the back of Alex's head in the audience, all cosied up up to Nicky; that got me to see the light alright. Fucking bright white lights spiralling in front of my eyes that made me want to throw up from the sudden pain of loneliness and abandonment; I felt it scrape its way through my body from the pit of my stomach, right up to the solid ball of guilt and self-pity that had lodged itself in my throat. No matter how hard I try I can't forget that raw emotion. I probably never will.

I couldn't miss Alex more if she were a million miles away.

**A/N: Feedback would be greatly appreciated and more chapters will follow in the near future... :)**


	2. Chapter 2 – Love is a Losing Game

2 – Love is a Losing Game

It's strange. When she was here I thought I wanted her uppity ass to just piss off and leave me in peace. I thought I just wanted to do my time and get the hell out of this twisted justice system. But first of course I wanted her to like me, we even had a connection again for a while, but then she started fucking around with my heart. I found myself reliving the relentless soul-crushing guilt trips she's always been so good at putting me through. Like an asshole, I had fallen in love with the damn woman again… Right before she chose the boring 'Larry' lifestyle – just like when we first broke up. She never had the guts to follow through to the bitter end.

I thought that was the end of it.

I was finally reconciled to throw in the towel and just let her go if that's what she wanted so fucking badly – but oh no: she came running back to me the very same day I made it explicitly clear that there was no turning back from her decision.

Yet now I'm the one who ends up feeling guilty as fucking Albert Anastasia. Why? Because for once in her life, Piper Chapman wasn't being a narcissist and genuinely – pretty damn desperately –needed my help. She should have listened when I told her to leave Doggett in Psyche where that meth-head belongs. It makes me sick when I think about how close Pipes was to getting sent down for all this complete and utter bullshit.

And over something I started.

As much as I teased her endlessly about her blame issues, I'm starting to think I have a good few of my own – it's taken me this long to fully admit to myself that yeah, actually, a lot of the Doggett stuff happened because of me… Piper just tagged along and ended up getting thrown under the bus for it. The same happened with the money laundering, now that I think about it. My eyes are welling up.

"Jesus Vause, not again – you're gonna turn this place into a prison swimming pool soon if you don't turn off the waterworks," Nicky tells me in the blunt matter of fact tone I so often apply myself. Her scathing sarcasm is probably justified, plus I don't think she's got laid since before the Christmas pageant. I've been totally emotionally, and most definitely physically, unavailable since the Piper incident.

"Really, that's the best you have for me? Just fuck off, Nicholls."

"Hey it's not like I'd be complaining. Morello's arse looks pretty darn fine in a swimsuit," she says winking and chuckling. I am not in the mood, not at all. I hate people who walk in on me when I'm emotional and I hate people who walk in on me in tears over a hot blonde woman; especially when said woman is, through my own stupidity, condemned to months alone going stir-crazy in SHU. Essentially, I hate Nicholls right now. She seems to notice that fact. About fucking time, I think to myself. She sighs, but still continues talking on what I've deemed a forbidden topic.

"Alex, it's been like two months, what did you expect? Streamers, balloons and a pity party? She ain't getting outta SHU till the end of her sentence now. The COs as good as said it, we all know it – I wouldn't be surprised if the she-devil herself already knew it. It's about fucking time you knew it too!"

If Nicky was inside my head she would currently be fearful of her life. I am totally ready to Chap her (as Piper's form of assault is affectionately known by every inmate out of Doggett's inner circle) for trying to tell me that Piper won't be back. She has to come back, she just has to.

"Don't call her that! And don't try and tell me… I'll find a way. There has to be a way… right?" I say, though I wish I had stayed silent because my voice sounds pathetically whiny even to my own ears.

Nicky just stares at me with her large dark eyes half filled with concern, half unable to contain their amusement. Her hair is as wild as ever and I wonder, for the umpteenth time, whether she back combs it to hell to make it look like that or naturally wakes up with frizz like a lion's mane. She swaggers over to my bunk and, with an unusual amount of caution, sits down; it's as if she thinks I'm a wild horse and is scared I'll bolt the second any sudden movements are made in my direction. I wipe my face with my hands, self consciously ridding my cheeks of stupid tears and immediately start to fiddle with my glasses afterwards. She takes my hands in one of hers, forcing my gaze to become completely concentrated on her instead.

"You gotta listen to me good, Vause, 'cause I'm not trying to be a bitch here. Everyone knows, okay? Everyone knows that you feel like crap 'cause Chapman's got it rough. But that don't mean you gotta get taken down with her! Laundry really needs ya back-"

I can't help but snort at that. I give her credit though, she carries on undeterred.

"And we all miss you. The real you: not this fucking half-assed shadow that mopes around all the time, day after day, like someone's just slapped you in the face with a wet fish or something. We want the Vause with all her sexy as hell personality, ya know?"

"All right, all right, Jesus Nicky, no need to tell me a whole Bible story: I get it, I'm all washed up. You caught me, you found me out…But I can't pretend like everything's okay. Not without Piper," I say in a cold but soft voice, so that only Nicholls can hear me admit this. Showing weakness in here is like shouting out you have crabs on the outside: people run away from you like you're the plague and just hope you die quietly on your own.

"So what, that's it? You're just gonna sit here and get sent to SHU for missing work, that's your master plan? Cause' it's a pretty shitty one, Vause. You won't end up remotely near her cell, and then if she does come back you'll be in SHU so you'll still be apart."

I already know that plan of action is ridiculous, which I why I'm not making any plan at all, but Nicholls doesn't need to know that. Besides, all the COs have stayed away from me thus far and I can't see that changing any time soon. I stay silent.

"Well, at least I'm gonna be eating some real chicken soon," Nicky says. I swear her mood changes are getting as bad as Piper's were – what the fuck is she talking about? I decide to humour her.

"What?" I say in my most severe, uninterested voice.

"The squirrel told me that Red's taking bets: will Vause and Chapman get back together if the kid ever gets out of SHU. The odds are stacked against, but I think y'all soft inside really, so I put yeah. Now I'm damned sure I'm right."

"What the fuck has that got to do with chicken Nicholls?" I snap, exasperatedly closing my eyes and counting to ten in my head.

"Christ! You must be the only one who doesn't know by now. Turns out the chicken was real after all! Red found it pecking at her leftovers the other day and now she's making it into a Kiev. Whichever group wins the bet gets first taste – she's gonna kill it and freeze it so it'll keep, obviously," Nicky says grinning, and lifts herself up with a stretch, about to saunter off. I start to slip down underneath the covers once more; my brain hurts from all the talking. I've been avoiding everyone recently. This conversation is my first for a month solid.

"Seriously, Vause, get your shit together," Nicky mutters, turning to look at me one last time. I glare back at her with what I hope is an expression of careless nonchalance on my face, but I can't be sure. She looks away first and I close my eyes, only her heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor alert me to the fact that I am finally alone.

I swear without Piper I'm going mad. The sentiments of the word have never felt more true and applicable to me and my situation than they do right now. Unbidden, torturous images of my Piper's blood stained hands, horror-filled and blood spattered face, fill my mind and taunt me behind the old safety of my eyelids. Jarringly I sit up. I know what I have to do.

**A/N: Bit longer chapter than before so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Reviews/ Criticisms are always appreciated - keeps my writing error-free and as interesting for you guys as possible. Have some ideas about where you would like this to go? PM me and I may decide to agree with you!**


	3. Chapter 3 – Swim in Silence

**A/N: **Thank you for the four lovely reviews I received. All comments are appreciated and taken on board! Hope you enjoy this next instalment :)

3 –Swim in Silence

I can't hear them. Since I have come to appreciate the meagre food and drink the stale piss they call water here, the shouting and screaming seems to have stopped…. Or lessened maybe, I'm not sure which. I'm also not sure if this is a good thing or not. It means I have more room in my mind to think of Alex and recall the tone of her voice and the way her words once caressed my ears with their soft notes of worldly wisdom. My mind comes up with shit metaphors like that all the time. But I'm worried though: I think I'm starting to obsess so much over the finer details, that I am forgetting what she looks like on the whole…

I haven't spoken to a living being for over four months. Before I was put in SHU I didn't think that was even possible. I didn't think I was capable of shutting up for more than ten minutes at a time. No wonder Alex would just stroke my lips and passionately kiss my mouth whenever I rambled off on one. And I used to go off on one about such trivial things that seem so fucking inconsequential now! Working too much and not spending enough time with me in bed? She must have been so sick of my whining like a brat. I'm sure I'm forgetting something that used to bother me about her work but I can't even bring my mind to dredge up the past and think of it. Whatever it was, it can't have been important enough that I was so ungrateful. Why does my every thought somehow lead back to Alex Vause?

I've been trying to stop it. Stop the endless pining for someone who has told me that I am on my own in the most clear-cut of ways; she sat there with Nicky and… now Larry's gone too and I'm alone, all, all alone – if I ever get out no one will ever visit me – truly alone…

I have to run to the pristine silver wash basin in the corner of my cell. In doing so I'm unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of my reflection for the briefest of moments and almost on cue, almost like a direct reaction to the horrible image I see, I puke up the contents of my stomach until all that's left is the lining… and I think that's probably come up too. I don't bother to do the disinfecting routine I have down to a T. It's not worth it anymore.

I think somewhere inside I knew I looked bad, but seeing myself with grey craters under my puffy eyes, chapped lips with dry skin splintering off at every crevice and such detached inhuman eyes, they are the biggest shock; blank, unseeing and emotionless. I've become the zombie I most feared.

I hear a rattling sometimes. I think it is mice. Maybe rats… who knows? I can't help but laugh hysterically sometimes thinking of Red chasing up and down the ventilation shafts searching and searching for the little critters to round them all up, chop them up, shove them in a pot and stew them. The dinner tray I get tonight looks a bit like a burnt rat. My imaginings stops being so funny after that.

Twinkle twinkle little star…how many murderers…lay in the dark? Did they steal somebody's pie? Why… do they all… have to cry?

Stupid rattling. Stupid noises. Stupid damn nursery rhyme that I can't get out of my head no matter how many different words I substitute in. The racket is getting louder if anything and now on top of everything else, even when I'm doing my pacing during the day I can hear it just ever so slightly.

CLANG!

"WHA-" I try to shout but a hand is over my mouth. The first thing that comes to my mind is oh God, it's the Warden's come to execute me for killing Pennsatucky. Then I remember I didn't kill her and I start to struggle.

"Fuck! She's feistier than I remember! Jesus, and stronger too, look at them biceps man… But get her to calm the fuck down or we're all gonna get our asses busted in this joint," a familiar female voice growls menacingly.

I'm stunned.

The voice is so loud it rings in my ears after the months on end of silence. She's not talking to me I don't think, though I don't know because I might have misheard; someone's got an arm over my eyes and ear and the other seems to be restraining my movement. Hence the struggling and the biting I'm doing. How are these people even in my cell?

"Piper!"

This voice is panicked, but quieter than the first and I recognise it instantly. I realise I've gone insane or have knocked myself out good and proper and am dreaming for the first time in sixteen weeks. I flinch from the sharpness in her voice and simultaneously shiver in trepidation.

"Piper…" She says again, softly this time, like a sigh. I feel the arm restraints around my body loosen and instead my shoulders are rubbed comfortingly. Though all of a sudden I am unsure whether it is for my comfort or hers.I realise that I can't stop whatever is going on, yet I want to fight back – it's enough for her to intertwine her warm, soft fingers with mine and I feel myself relax unintentionally. Alex is here.


End file.
